


Wall

by yodepalma



Series: limit break [24]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Pointless, an attempt at editing was made
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-20 17:22:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11925630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yodepalma/pseuds/yodepalma
Summary: ...as in, Prompto wants to bash Gladio's head into one.





	Wall

**Author's Note:**

> a teensy tie-in to [today's posts](https://gladiocats.tumblr.com/post/164681142059/journal-entry-187) on our circle of rp blog things
> 
> if it sucks it's because my brain has nothing but cats and voltron in it right now
> 
> .......i originally wrote the summary as a joke but seriously guys NOTHING BUT CATS AND VOLTRON

Gladio is about to wash his hair when he hears Prompto’s squeal. He _almost_ doesn’t think anything of it, until he realizes that the sound isn’t his usual ‘scary spider!’ noise. Which means something _else_ is wrong, even though it’s just the two of them in the room.

 _Should_ just be the two of them. Did they remember to lock the door? Gladio had been so mad when Prompto had run into the bathroom ahead of him, he can’t _remember_. If anyone got into the room—well, Prompto can usually take care of himself. Unless he gets flustered because he’s _half naked_.

Gladio bashes his elbow into one wall and his knee into the toilet. Clenching his teeth against the pain, he _carefully_ turns toward the door. Attempting to burst through it makes him hit his elbow again, and _then_ he trips over the lip of the door _and_ bangs his head on the doorframe.

“ _Fuck!_ ” Gladio rubs his forehead and looks around the room suspiciously, not that there’s much to see. “Is everything okay? Do you need me to punch someone?”

Punching someone would be great. He’s _still_ kind of bitter that he couldn’t punch the malboro.

“Wha—no!” Prompto pouts up at him. He looks even cuter than usual, standing there with his wet hair dripping in his eyes and wearing nothing but his boxers and red tanktop. His _utterly_ _ridiculous_ chocobo-patterned boxers. Gladio wants to kiss him. “I just can’t find my spare pants. I think—maybe Noct took them? The _jerk_.”

Gladio frowns and steps the rest of the way into the room, looking over Prompto’s shoulder at his belongings scattered across the couch. His clean pants definitely aren’t there.

“Weird.” Gladio rubs at his forehead again. Damn thing _aches_. And at a completely different tempo from his elbow, too. It’s all Noct’s fault. “What’d he need them for?”

“I don’t _know_.” Prompto sighs explosively and throws his hands up in the air. He turns to face Gladio again—and his face turns bright red a second before he slaps both hands over it. “G-Gladio!”

Gladio looks down at himself and makes a face at the water dripping onto the carpeted floor. “What?”

“You couldn’t even grab a _towel_?” Prompto moans. “Get back in there!”

“But you’re so _cute_ when you’re flustered.” Gladio tugs gently at Prompto’s hands, but he doesn’t budge. That’s fine; he just kisses the backs of Prompto’s fingers instead. One at a time, until Prompto _whines_.

“Why are you always so—so—”

“Dashing?” Gladio grins even though Prompto isn’t looking at him. “Amazing? Romantic?”

Prompto finally lowers his hands to glare, even though the blush has spread to his ears. “ _Gross_.” He shoves at Gladio’s chest. “Stop dripping on me.”

“Fine, fine, I’m going.” Gladio sighs and trudges back into the tiny closet, barely remembering in time to duck his head. And bangs his elbow _again_ grabbing the shampoo. Fucking trains.

**Author's Note:**

> edit: apparently two partially functioning brains did not make even one fully functioning brain, so a third partially functioning brain joined the party and helped out. edits have been made. SIGH.


End file.
